Beth Greene's A Horror Buff?
by turningofflights
Summary: Daryl and Beth haven't been at the funeral home for long, but when Beth finds a few horror novels in master bedroom, the two bond over literature and discover sides of each other they didn't know existed. Short Oneshot. BethxDaryl friendship or more depending on how you read it. T for language only.


Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead, nor any of the titles referenced.

"Score!" Beth shouted with delight. They hadn't been at the funeral home for long, but they decided to turn it upside down for supplies. While Daryl was searching for guns, ammo, and, with any luck, arrows, Beth was on a whole different kind of search.

"What'd you find? And what'd I tell you about keeping that ankle up?" he asked, searching through the master bedroom closet. Beth sat perched against the bottom of the bed with the dowers of the nightstand open and dumped out.

"Books!" she said. "Oh my, this man is a reader whoever he is."

"There anything useful in there?" he asked as he walked towards her.

"Well he has my favorite book, so there's that!" she said, handing him a worn paper-back.

"The Exorcist? You like this shit?" he asked, flipping through it.

"You can't call it shit if you've never read it, Daryl. That is a great book! Daddy didn't like it when I read stuff like that, but he said he couldn't stand to take knowledge away from me, so he let me read them. Even so, I hid my scarier books under the bed so he wouldn't worry for me. They did no harm, really! That one's the best, though," she said, pointing to the book in his hand. Beth, ironically, took the few horror novels she found fit to keep, and placed the Bible right on top of them.

"Hm. I don't like stuff like that," he said.

"Wait, Daryl, it's gotta be just the worst sin to steal a Bible from somebody, right? Do you think he'll share it? If we stay, I mean…"

"Wait, you're stealin a bunch of scary shit and the Bible? What else you got there?" he asked.

"Some Koontz, some Stephen King… ooh, Frankenstein, Silence of the Lambs…"

"The one with the guy who eats people?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm. Beth turned from her pile to see the fear of a little boy in his eyes.

"I mean they're not real, Daryl," she said, barely managing not to look amused.

"I know that," he said shortly.

"It's all pretend,"

"_I know that, Greene_," he said. "I ain't scared."

"Alright, if you say so! How about we read some, then?" she said, sitting up on the bed with him. Her hand brushed his slightly as she took her favorite book out of his hands. What would be the first of many chills that night coursed through both of them.

"Yeah, alright. Let's go downstairs, more light down there… I mean y'know, better access to the doors. We hear any walkers, yeah?" he said, getting up from the bed. He grabbed Beth's pile of books, four books filled with terror, despair, murder, rape, torture, and a nice Bible in good condition set right on top.

"Yeah! Yeah good idea," she said, humoring him. He gave her a brief glance, silently thanking her for not calling him out on being scared. Daryl handed her the pile of books, picked her up off the bed in one swoop, and headed toward the door.

"I'm beginnin to think you like carrying me around," she said, grinning.

"Yeah well you're too slow."

* * *

Beth hid her smile as she noted Daryl's changes throughout the night. When it was just getting dark, Daryl laid in the coffin, as far as possible from Beth's sitting form on the floor.

"Alright, just a couple chapters. We gotta wake up early tomorrow," he had grumbled.

"Just a couple chapters!" she had promised.

Four and a half hours later, Daryl was sitting just a few feet from Beth, cross-legged, both hands covering his mouth.

"Prideful bastard, Merrin! Scum!" Beth shouted, in an eerily well-done demonically possessed voice, "You will lose! She will die! The pig will die!"

Daryl took in a large breath, putting his head in his hands. It was all so overwhelming, but he had no desire to tell her to stop. Beth laid down on her back, raising the book above her head, as she continued to read aloud. Her throat was slightly hoarse. She didn't mind that he asked her to read the whole thing.

"What!?" Daryl let out. It was instinctual and unwilling. He felt like a child again, entranced by the words he was hearing. He hadn't been read a story since he was so young, back when his mom wasn't off her shit and life wasn't as bad as it had gotten. Beth laughed at his outburst.

"You want me to stop? The candles are gettin low anyways," she said.

"Nah. Keep readin."

"Alright!" she said. Inside she felt elated. She couldn't exactly stop in the middle of the best part as it was.

"The flickerin haze grew gradually brighter. The demonic entity had returned and raged hatefully…" Beth continued to go on. Her sweet, Southern bell voice felt wrong with those words creeping out of it. All day, Beth had been telling Daryl how great humanity was, and here she was, talking about exorcisms and murder and sex and other horrendous things.

Daryl rolled over onto his stomach, just a few inches from Beth, looking down on her face as she scrunched up her face in concentration. Beth Greene, a horror fan? She would never quit surprising him.

* * *

It was dawn when Beth finished reading the book.

"In forgetting, they were tryin to remember," she finished. She closed the book with a dramatic thud, tossing the book toward the piano. Daryl laid on his side, propping his head up on his hand, eyes wide.

"That's it?" he asked.

"That's it," she said. He let out a big huff, as if he had just finished a long journey.

"Hmm," he said, noncommittally.

"Oh come on, 'Hmm'? That's all I get? I ain't gonna be able to talk properly tomorrow and I get a 'Hmm'?" she asked, throwing her arms up in the air.

"It was fine," he said.

"Oh you loved it," she responded, sticking her tongue out at him. Daryl got up, stretching awkwardly.

"Hmm," he repeated yet again. She raised her head to see his figure retreating up the stairs. She sat up, thinking perhaps he was done for the night- headed upstairs to claim the bed. The thought made her slouch. Beth fell back onto her back, groaning. The minute she thought maybe he… Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw him walk back downstairs. He had a pillow and blanket in hand. He tossed both at her, grabbed the pillow off the coffin, and set it down next to her. He collapsed down on his stomach, waving his hand away at her when she offered him some blanket.

"You sure?" she asked. "It's cold out."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. Go 'head." She nodded and turned her back to him, her mind racing. What was she expecting? Daryl Dixon cuddling her on the floor of a funeral home?

"Beth?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she responded brightly. Somehow, she wasn't tired at all.

"Tomorrow, Frankenstein?" he asked. She grinned to herself.

"It's a little harder to understand."

"I can do it," he said. His words weren't harsh, but they were strong, confident in a way she had yet to hear him sound."

"I know you can," she said. She did know, and he knew she did. Beth curled up under the blanket, the weight of reading for five straight hours finally hitting her. Looks like the hunter and her had a new activity to bond over.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. Your reviews make me grin- every single one! So more feedback, I beg of you!


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